


Paisap's teaching

by Tikor



Category: Exalted
Genre: Fanfiction, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6928192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikor/pseuds/Tikor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A monk and a governor meet to discuss recent protests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paisap's teaching

Chanos, Chanos Prefecture, The Realm, RY 768

Outside the pings of an unseasonable hailstorm in the month of Resplendent Earth bounce off of the fine glass windows of the second story house of the governor of the city of Chanos. Chants of "Not in the having! But in the making!" are punctuated by muffled screams and blunt instruments. They do not last long.

The governor sits behind an expansive ironbark desk imported from the east that looks so heavy the whole building must have been designed to support its weight. She is surrounded by a mortal honor guard, armed with a white Jade short daiklave known as Recruitment and wearing a smug and satisfied smile. Six stand along one long wall, six along the opposite, two beside the desk and two at the entrance now closed. "I'd like to thank you for arranging this weather, honored monk. It has selected exactly the right peasants to punish without involving the suggestible masses and eased my burden of governance significantly. I'll be sure the local chapter of the Immaculate Order hears of my appreciation like the hail on the rooftop."

The Immaculate Monk stands before the minister alone with head shaved, feet in crude and worn sandals, body in a simple white robe. "I am honored to serve the keeping of the Hierarchy here in Chanos Prefecture, Governor Ragara Illeyas. I am just the messenger and will pass the thanks along to those truly deserving the praise." The Immaculate Monk looks out the window. The common square is deserted but the chant from before still echos in the thoughts of the monk. "Could you tell me why the protesters choose to quote Paisap at your doorstep?"

"Who can tell where the rabble get their ideas from? You monks tell them things and they know the words but don't know the true meaning." The Dynast appears near the end of the meeting, having said all she meant to say.

"As a monk with little experience in secular matters, I hope you'll honor my question for the ignorance it is instead of the malice it is not. What have you made that has earned you such nice possessions? Paisap smiles on those who build their own riches." The Immaculate Monk's expression hasn't changed, but the Dynast's face became guarded after hearing the question and her guard's body language echoed their charge's tension.

One of the guards speaks. "My lady has served the Realm faithfully and earned the loyalty of many Imperial soldiers to guard the Realm."

Ragara Illeyas approves of her guard's loyalty. "Thank you, Spear, but I'll elaborate for the monk from here. I served 15 years in the legion and I govern Chanos City. Through those honored positions I have made the living I enjoy and I'm thankful to the Empress for both opportunities to serve The Realm. Just as you serve the Realm through the Immaculate Order, Turned Leaf, and are fed and clothed and otherwise provisioned according to your station."

Turned Leaf looks at a few of the unusually handsome and conspicuously all-male honor guards. Their uniforms are cut from fine cloth with odd and revealing portions missing. They seem tailored specifically for each guard. The expensive formal legion uniform on the Dynast commanding them is also fetching, enough to wear to any high society occasion. The expensive and fresh imported food lying untouched on the large desk holds the monks attention, then she looks back to Ragara Illeyas. "I have been told that you live far in excess of what those combined incomes would typically entail. And that you've been making payments to your family besides. Is there no truth to that assessment?"

Illeyas' face frowns and she responds with an authoritative "No."

Turned Leaf lets the silence hang in the room uncomfortably long. "I have consulted with the astrologers of the Immaculate Order and they have issued a prophecy for me to deliver to you. They say that the taxes are to be lowered by 2 koku per peasant and 10 koku per patrician per season. Further, that no such increase to the usual tithe to the Immaculate Order will be observed. Will such a prophecy come true?"

"If you think I was going to hand over that kind of money for some hail then you vastly overestimate your usefulness, monk. And to just hand it to these unruly citizens? I could have a mercenary company shipped in from the Threshold to deal with twice the uprising I've got here for that price. No, your astrologers have it _very_ wrong."

"You speak as if the money is already yours. Next seasons's taxes are not reaped yet." Turned Leaf takes a few steps around the room. "It must be expensive to maintain such a numerous and professional guard, all 15 of them. In 3 shifts and extra for sickness or leave you might have 50 in total. Surely they could be retired to help belay the expense. How many carnal pleasures does one woman need?"

"I only have 14 guards here today, Turned Leaf."

"I can taste the one behind the curtain above on the wind. Yes, the one with the blow dart." Turned Leaf lets that small display of supernatural power sink into her audience for a moment before retrieving a scrolled parchment from her robe. "I have the order to change the tax addressed to The Humble and Honest Assessors of the Imperial Tax here." She unfurls it. "It awaits your signature."

"You are starting to sound like those rabble misquoting Paisap out in the hail, Turned Leaf. Take your parchment and take your small donation and be content with the way things are. I am the ruler here in Chanos, and I will be the one to order the Assessors as I see fit."

Turned Leaf rolls the parchment and places it back in her robe. "I do believe I misheard you, Ragara Illeyas. The Empress rules Chanos, and owns all the land therein, and you are her humble servant. I'm sure you knew that."

"I have the right vested in me by the power of this office to tax the peasantry and the patricians as I will! You will not deny me that privilege!"

"Your privileges can be trimmed, Illeyas."

"You will address me as Governor!"

"Like most secular powers they are granted by the Empress alone."

"By the Empress no one has seen in 5 years? I am a Dragon-Blooded, raised to rulership by your own Immaculate Philosophy! I could have taken this blade and dealt with all the nongmin myself but I deferred to your abbot's suggestion out of faith and good reason. I could kill every one of them, they live only by my mercy and they will _pay_ what I _demand_ and _deserve_."

Turned Leaf lets the shouts echo down in the large office. Into the silence she says "I could kill every one of you, but I do not confuse my restraint with mercy. Merely order."

"I will not be threatened in my own city - in my own house! Boys, send her to the cellar with the other rabble who think to question me. The abbot can have her back when she's learned some respect for the Empire."

Turned Leaf bursts into a display of dancing Essence and water in patterns of dragons swimming after each other which pauses the advance of the mortal soldiers. "You obey an order from a Dragon-Blooded and for that you are commended. However, hear this counter-order: stand down. You will all be placed in a new position far from Ragara Illeyas' retribution with the blessing of the Immaculate order. You will have your days to seek further enlightenment. Attack me and I cannot promise your lives."

The first to strike comes from the blow dart wielder behind the cloth. Turned Leaf snatches the dart from out of the air and throws it back at the curtain. A man falls from behind his cover to land on his long and hollow stick, breaking it. Turned Leaf then but waves a hand and 6 men are pressed against a wall so hard they pass out from the tsunami force. From her left two spear wielders charge and have their thrusts parried so hard with a foot and a hand-of-two-fingers that the blades fly off into two more of their comrades. Ragara Illeyas herself jumps her desk, draws Recruitment and plunges it into Turned Leaf's back before any of the mortals can make another move and faster than Turned Leaf can dodge. Instead of blood sprouting from the wound, seawater trickles into the white robes. Turned Leaf somersaults with the blade in her back and Ragara Illeyas holding on. The Dynast lands harshly on her back holding up the monk by the sword still embedded in the wound she thought would stop the fight. The Dynast weathers a pummeling of elbows. Again and again the elbows land, the force of one blow directing the woman's face into the bone on cheekbone strike of the next blow. For the confused Dynast the world is a blur of shadow and pain. Her sword, stuck in the monk's back, is useless for defense. It occupies her hands out of habit. Her kicks find only air. Waving or twisting the sword seems only to add to the force of the blows to her face. She holds Recruitment firmly until she passes out.

\- - -

Ragara Illeyas wakes in a monastery. Her face is swollen, of that she could tell, and also bandaged. The ceiling is white and outside chanted prayers to Paisap can be heard. Sitting up, she sees Turned Leaf face to face.

"We go to great lengths to keep the fallibility of the Dragon-Blooded away from the common populace. Here in the monastery we spar with humanity daily and have time to teach them the context under which a Dragon-Blooded may fail and how the righteous always succeed. To see one incapacitated, especially a secular one such as yourself; it is not an odd sight. Your guard could not be trusted with this secret after having assaulted one of us."

"Wha ha'end 'oo ..." Ragara Illeyas fumbles with speech around her bindings and hurries to remove some of them.

"Leave the bandages be if you wish for a straight jawline." Ragara Illeyas stops removing bandages. Turned Leaf reaches in her robe for a scrolled parchment, and unravels it for the second time. "I would like your signature. No, I do not have the blessing of my abbot to kill you at this time. But it would be disheartening to reveal your current state to the populace you rule after the trouble I took to discreetly transport you here. I'd much prefer to deliver this parchment myself and announce you are on a short sabbatical." Turned Leaf hands Ragara Illeyas the parchment and an inked quill, but the Dynast still hesitates. "If we meet again on this matter, we won't have a lesson on the teachings of Paisap first. You will be in your routine and then suddenly you'll wake up here, with me, this parchment, and this quill."

Ragara Illeyas signs the order to The Humble and Honest Assessors of the Imperial Tax. Turned Leaf smiles and takes the order, quickly rolling it and concealing it in her robe.

"Our astrologers will be most pleased by the fulfillment of their prophecy. I will inform them at once."


End file.
